Chapter 2: First Sight

Seemingly centuries, only a couple weeks had passed since they first met. A blind date, his not hers, turned out excruciating. He imagined his colleague rolling on the floor with laughter at what he wrought, but maybe he meant well. He may have not realized the poisonous negativity the woman vented. Pretty but plain, plump but not fat, her features hadn't forced her to try a blind date. First impressions wouldn't have had Joe kicking her out of bed. Conversation would have.

The obvious reason why she blind dated wasn't reciprocated. Well educated, articulate, a genius IQ, interested (except when confronted by a wall of negativity) and interesting, Joe presented an appealing prospect for women. Tall and lean and broad shouldered, he had a pleasant face, almost pretty, with a prominent softly rounded nose and kindly medium sized azure eyes. He rarely noticed both homosexual men and heterosexual women glancing at him imagining a conjoining. Confident in his studiousness and his ambition, he had little confidence in his seductive abilities despite successes with girls who managed to bring him into their lives.

He enjoyed one lengthy relationship at each school he attended. High school's ending ended his first affair, the girl who shared deflowering. College contained an affair lasting most of his sophomore year and ending during summer by her choice. At law school the equally ambitious woman he dated had been a friend with benefits. Respect and good sex hadn't created a loving bond. She fucked around on him, and he had a couple drunken post party fucks and neither minded. An attractive slightly effeminate presence who rarely seemed accompanied by a girlfriend, many figured him to be gay. He'd been asked a few times by interested men or curious women. Not the macho, sexually unsteady type, the question amused him.

He moved gracefully. He did well at tennis and basketball in high school. Both sports continued with friends in college and law school, and he joined a tennis club and managed to find partners to play in the city of strangers, Chicago when he got hired after passing his Illinois bar. He jogged every morning. He kept in shape.

But grace left him when in the presence of a woman who made his gorge tighten and his heart speed while he tripped over his lengthy feet unable to get beyond his shyness. The date from hell cut through it.

"I'm sorry," he said to the harpy halfway through their meal which he found unpalatable. He stood and tossed down enough cash to cover the bill. "This isn't working." He ignored her anger and her tears. He felt unusually bold.

Strolling to the bar, he sat beside the voluptuous dirty blonde woman who had met the last two of his four glances, holding the final one for several seconds and smiling. She had a guy chatting her up, but ignoring him had resulted in his giving up the attempt. Joe saw the word bitch mouthed by the asshole.

Noticing her tumbler full of caramel colored liquid, he refrained from offering her a drink. Instead he asked, "Are you my redeemer?"

Her brilliant smile thrilled him. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm having a disastrous evening and hope you might redeem it by allowing me to join you."

"It seems you have," she said.

"I guess so," said Joe smiling energetically, enjoying the power of his surprising confidence. "Joe," he introduced, lifting a hand to shake.

"Marta." An equanimity of firmness agreed with Joe. He discovered her strength in her grasp, no pretense of delicate femininity.

"I don't think I've seen you here," she remarked.

"Probably since I've never been here."

"That might do it."

"I take it you have."

"Too often. Especially lately. A bit of courage brings me in," she said, lifting her drink to illustrate the elixir making her brave. "I hate drinking alone."

"Glad I could accommodate your needs."

She surveyed his body and snickered. "We'll see," she said. "But it's not that. I need to be out in the world when I'm having my drinks. Speaking of which, what are you having?"

"What's that?"

"Amaretto."

"I guess not. Too sweet. I like to feel what the stuff is doing to me when it slips down the gullet. Bourbon up with a soda chaser."

"Brand?"

"They probably pour the cheap stuff in the top shelf."

"A bartender?" she asked.

"I waited tables at a club for awhile to help pay for school."

"Anyplace I know?"

"Have you been to St Cloud Minnesota?"

"No."

"Land of bars and college students."

"Sounds decadent."

"Too Upper Midwestern."

"Corruption gets frozen every winter. But the Windy City gets nearly as cold."

"I guess it's piled up too thick."

"I guess so," said Marta sadly. "Is that where you're from?"

"Pretty much. I got my BA there and went to the University of Minnesota for a law degree. Flexible hours and better pay kept me a waiter while working at school in the law library."

"Not much time for dating."

"I ... I'm not so smooth with the girls."

"Could have fooled me."

"I had a friend. She let me stay at her place near campus sometimes. We took care of our needs."

Wincing at her watch, she said. "I better go." She downed her drink and stood.

"Oh," said Joe startled, bringing a smile to Marta. "Why?"

"Work."

"After ... Not my business. Can I give you a ride?"

"I have a car. Give me your cell phone." She pressed buttons and her cell phone rang. "Call me tomorrow afternoon."

"Really?"

"Unless you don't want to."

Joe downed his whiskey and most of the chaser. "Let me walk you to your car."

"Thank you."

At her olive green Miata, she handed him a card. "Confession time," she said. Climbing into her car, she drove off a second later giving him a brief sad smile as she went from reverse to forward.

Joe fondled the card while watching the retreating sports car. Looking down answered the question. Marta was a stripper. Post card size ad gave him free access to "Choice, a Gentleman's Club." He debated whether to see her naked before the first kiss. After a deep dish pizza and a large mug of beer he chose to.

Friday night the club thrived. Candlelit darkness focused eyes at the stage not much brighter. Footlights and lights overhead kept dim as women with various abilities danced sensuously and discarded clothing until fully naked and hung and twirled on the pole, bringing their bodies close to customers lining the stage with ones and fives placed before them. Suggestive lyrics from R & B, hip hop and rock reverberated through the large space circled on the outer edge with couches and containing several tables and chairs, the music throbbing, the bass woofers cranked at the threshold of vibrating the carpeted floor.

He entered amongst a group of kids barely out of high school, their build suggesting jocks and pretty cheerleader girlfriends in recent times. They acted like kids trying to impress each other. The club didn't serve alcohol. Most customers, including the kids, indulged before arriving, more obviously the later it got until the crowd arrived at the club after the bars closed. The club stayed open two hours after bars closed.

Marta didn't appear for an hour after he arrived. He wondered if her handing him the ad could be misunderstood. After rejecting several invitations for lap dances, a couple of the attractive ladies in skimpy lingerie lingering and chatting and attempting to lure him to the VIP room for more expensive and more intimate private dances, one even getting pretty vulgar and insistent, he placed himself at the stage and studied the situation noticing the girls preferred five dollar bills much more than ones. A skinny, lively Asian girl interested him, so he extracted a five spot and placed it in front of him. He enjoyed her small breasts and nipples sliding across his face and the tease of her mouth lingering near his crotch. He had no complaints about her pussy lips presented to him while her torso sloped downwards. The heavy titted black woman proved even more provocative for his five, showing her muscular skills as her pussy opened and closed on its own.

Marta followed the Negress revealing the grace of a skilled dancer and not necessarily of the exotic variety. He'd been audience to a few student modern dance concerts when a law school friend invited him to see his girlfriend. One of her fellow dancers attracted him mightily, a dark haired beauty with a slim abdomen but well rounded butt and breasts. Afterwards they chatted, and a crush developed, but his lack of nerve prevented pursuit beyond a few words exchanged and heated stares probably making her uncomfortable.

He obviously had permission to stare at his new acquaintance. Everything about her attracted him. Her grace, her athleticism on the pole, her full robust breasts defying gravity only fake ones could improve on, her equally robust tusch, the gentle curve between and the abdomen it held rippling beneath a soft layer, her long strong tapering legs, everything about her except her smile, her most appealing attribute absent from her face. She looked serious as she concentrated on her work yet pasted on a smile. The fake smile dissolved when their eyes met. She showed her true seriousness. Her eyes twinkled with a touch of sadness. The result presented a complex emotional moment, regretful yet proud. He ignored her subtle shake of the head when he revealed his last 5 spot and placed it. He wanted her close. Her marvelous breasts approached.

"Could you give me a VIP dance?" he whispered loud enough to hear while her luscious flesh caressed his face.

"It's expensive. I like you."

"You can pay me back if it bothers you."

"Minus the house's percentage?"

"Of course."

She lowered her head until it touched his trousers, feeling the hardness which jumped when she planted a kiss.

"Okay," she said when her head arose.

"You don't have to display yourself to me."

"Okay. Thanks."

She went to the next customer and showed her pussy to him. He retreated to a table and a waitress got him an overpriced bottle of water.

"No thanks," he said to the two girls offering private dances.

A beautiful blonde with a nearly flawless body followed Marta. He studied her perfection.

"She's cold, a heartless bitch. It's the ones that have to work at attraction that usually give the best lap dances," explained Marta as she sat at Joe's table midway through the blonde's first song. He studied the blonde's face and saw the coldness. "Come on."

Joe watched the ruffled mini-skirt suggest the shape beneath naked moments before and it thrilled him. They walked upstairs into a small curtained room. Joe lay on the bed. She removed the skirt and the see-through blouse leaving a g-string and straddled him.

"I have a regular here tonight," she explained. "I depend on them."

"I was curious, Marta. I've never been to a strip joint."

Her barely covered pussy rubbed his pants covered hard-on. "What do you think?" she asked.

"It's a weird game. You sell a lot for the money. You disguise intention with seduction. It creates a hard mask. The life behind it suffers. And yet we men crave the game. We crave the artifice and the attention despite its ulterior motivation."

"Men are so physical, like a gun. Pull the trigger and you're released." She demonstrated. Her pussy attended to his cock. Her breasts caressed his face. She gave him the scent of her pussy when it hovered near his mouth. She returned to the pussy massage relentlessly until he came. "See?"

"Unh-hunh," he responded breathlessly.

Her body lay across his. "It takes a lot more for me. A lot more," she whispered wetly into his ear.